


Before Her

by EponineFaye



Category: Chenzel - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Wicked RPF
Genre: Adorable, Angst, Cheno, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, chenzel, idina, kristin chenoweth - Freeform, lots of fluff, so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EponineFaye/pseuds/EponineFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chenzel. Idina's POV, looking back on what's happened. Years of hiding what they are leads up to one night that Idina doesn't know that she's ready for or not. Short. Cute. Mostly Fluff. Reviews make me smile. You are loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Her

Before her, I'd never been touched this way.

No one had ever touched me like I was delicate, or fragile; like I feel most of the time. I put on a big show and pretend I think oh so much of myself, but I'm an actress. I act. I make myself into someone I'm not for a fucking career – it's bound to carry over into my personal life. It always has. It probably always will. But with her, my acting is nothing. It's not even as heavy as a smoke screen. She sees through everyone I try to be for other people, and then she looks at me.

She makes me feel real. Like I'm tangible, and completely wanted. She's a drug that hasn't been thought up yet, and instead of making anything, she makes life clear and colors are more vivid. She is the little ball of sunshine that makes me swoon at the very thought of her illumination. She smiles with such vigorous happiness that I am genuinely humbled. She speaks with an honesty that makes me weak at the knees and overjoyed to know that she speaks to me and only me at times. Her words, some of them when we are alone, are for my ears alone to hear.

She steals me away from the world and take me to a place I can breathe without needing to control the motion of my chest. I don't need to be in control where she takes me. She covers me only in loving glances and kisses that are so sweet they should decorate a chocolate cake instead of my undeserving body. Those feather-light caresses make the entirety of my being shiver. She's gentle with me; careful even, like I'm a piece of art or something so expensive that she hasn't bought… Like I'm worth so much more than I am; like she doesn't already have every bit of me.

I guess she has reason to believe she doesn't, that she's only off to the side, as I'm married. And married to a man! He was my everything at one point. He treated me like I was the only woman in the world, and like he couldn't be without me. But he got tired of me, just like everyone does. I became something that he'd gotten bored with. After all my tricks and acting, I'm boring, and there's nothing left to guess at; I'm simple, and uninteresting, there's nothing to me that anyone really wants a part of. And now I am nothing more than the mother of his child. I am a small piece in all of what has become his giant game of house.

But even if he didn't lose interest, or if he wasn't there at all, I still would've fallen in love with her. She captured me from that first moment I sang with her to test our voices together. I prayed I got that role just to see her again. Not so I could put another role on my resume or have more experience… I needed an excuse to see her again. To be close enough so that I could catch that little wrinkle in her nose when she really laughs; to even hear her laugh is more than I'm worthy of.

The first time we made love, I didn't really believe it was happening. I didn't think someone as beautiful as her could want me. Me of all people! I was scared out of my mind that I wasn't pretty enough in comparison to how utterly gorgeous she was, and IS, and that I'd see it in her face that she didn't know what to do when she realized her mistake. I shook with fear. I was almost in tears by the time we made it to her bed, and I was completely bare. I was in my most vulnerable state. Just as I was about to break, she looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes. She looked at ME. The me who is hidden behind stage makeup and hairspray and all my trappings of insecurity; she looked at me. She took my face in her hands and called me beautiful. She told me, out of everyone that she could easily have on the drop of a dime, she told me I was beautiful. In that moment, she took all of me. I laid down with her and gave myself to her in every way I knew how. Her fingers moved gently inside of me as her lips found various alley ways to trace along my neck, and her free hand gracefully kept me close to her just like I needed her to. And I clung to her. I held on for dear life, like I would be pulled from the earth if I didn't have her to hold on to. She brought me to my very peak; the highest I'd ever been with anyone, with an ease and grace that bordered divine. She sent electricity surging through my body and powering a desire I'd never experienced with any other person that I'd come across. She made my head spin and the air in the bedroom thick with the passion I'd never felt for anyone else. Then she kissed me. Her lips barely touched mine, as if I might have shattered where she not careful, and in all honesty I just might have. She collapsed on top of me panting heavily as if she'd been the one screaming my name. I asked to touch her with a silent question in my eyes, which she responded to only with another kiss; one that gave me confidence to do something I'd only ever imagined before. She let me give her the same pleasure she gave me, and I felt blessed to be allowed something so incredible as the sight of her. She wriggled beneath me, squirming and giving me small, breathy words of encouragement. Finally, I watched as her back arched, and she threw her head back. She yelled throatily, grabbed her pillows in handfuls and shook as I thrust my fingers slightly deeper within her. I only removed myself when her body went lip. Her skin was flushed the loveliest shade of pink I'd ever seen, which I took time to shower with tiny kisses.

That night she let me rest my head on her chest and let myself go. She asked nothing of me, and didn't hold me to expectations. She knew I'd leave in the morning and go back to my husband, and I could see the heartbreak in her eyes at the fact. I didn't want to go, but what choice did I have? What kind of hell could that have put our careers through? She knew that if I were to leave my husband it wouldn't be for her, or not right away. She knew I wasn't strong enough to do something like that. I'm not strong enough to be that independent.

And I'm still not strong enough. I'm weak. I stay with a man who doesn't care for me as much as he should while I watch our baby. I'm a coward to not admit to myself that she treats me far better without being asked, and I'm stupid enough to keep what we have a secret. I'm too weak to let myself come the the realization she already treats my son like her own, and that she'd be a great mother. She wants children and a family, but I won't let myself believe she could want that with me. I'm not the kind of person anyone would want to build a life with. The only man who did isn't interested in me or the life he made with me anymore.

We meet when we can now. Between my tour dates and her various appearances in little things which she's too talented for. She still touches me as though I'm made of porcelain. She still asks nothing of me and holds me to no standard, and gives me the world every time we make love. She still kisses me so sweetly; like I've ever done anything to deserve it. She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. And she still makes me think about things I don't have the courage to think of on my own.

Tonight is more silent than most nights. We're in New York; the same place all of this first happened, and in her bed again. She moved from her old apartment years ago, but I can still feel that same frightening adrenalin that filled me our first time.

I don't know what she's looking at, but it must be worthy of her gaze. She is utterly wonderful. I have never seen anything more beautiful on this earth, and I'm humbled she picked me to lay there next to her. The candle light is glinting off the golden streaks in her hair like rays of sunshine.I can't help but run my fingers through it; her soft curls slipping through them with ease. No matter in what light, she always seems to have this fire burning inside of her, illuminating her from within. I start to hum our song and her eyes drift closed as a smile pulls at the very corners of her mouth. Her fingers lace in and out of mine, just playing with one another softly. She's my everything. She's what tethers me to the earth.

As our song comes to an end, she looks up at me, smiling genuinely. She tucks a few strings of my long brunette mane away from my face, tracing along my jaw line with her finger as she pulls her hand away. She shifts ever so slightly and I feel her bare body move against mine. She's settled, comfortable now, leaving me in the same comfortable position I was in, though I would be just fine as long as I was with her.

"Idina..." she whispers, like she's telling me a secret. "I love you."

It's not the first time she's told me, but it feels like the first every time I hear it. It brings tears to my eyes every time she says it, knowing she means it. She stays with me through all of my bullshit, so it has to be true. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I feel like I'm complete.

I lean forward, kissing her with the same gentle, considerate care that she kisses me with. As I pull back, I keep her gaze locked with mine, trying to convey all the emotions she makes me feel that I'm not smart enough to articulate to her.

"Kristi..." I whisper back, knowing she doesn't have many people who know the name her parents gave her. "I love you. More than I know how to tell you."

I hope with all my heart she knows I'm telling the truth. I hope she knows I would do anything for her: that I would give my entire being for her to be happy. I hope she never doubts the fact I am nothing without her.

But no matter what I say, it doesn't change the fact that I made a commitment to another person that hasn't been cut. It alter that she's held the title of 'mistress' for years without me telling her any different.

She's smiling at me, but she's not really happy. I can see the tears pooling in the corner of her vision, and I can't take it anymore.

I move away from her, feeling the cold hit me almost immediately without her body next to mine, but this has to be done. I kiss her quickly, with a real smile, and move to the out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where I left my bag. It doesn't take me more than a minute to find the papers, and I walk quickly back down the hall to her room. She's still sitting up in bed with not a single thing on except for a questioning look on her face.

I sit on the floor next to where she is on the bed, tucking my legs beneath me and hand her the papers. The expression on her face stays bewildered until she actually starts reading. Her eyebrows raise and the tears that were threatening to fall earlier multiply and fall down her perfect face. She's even beautiful when she cries.

She looks at me, with a look that tells me she's wondering if any of this is even real. All I can bring myself to do is smile wider, confirming her silent musings.

She flips through the divorce papers, no doubt seeing my signature on all of the spaces appropriate. I've had the papers for about a week, now I'm going to use them. I'm going to do what I should've done from the first time we made love all those years ago and I'm making my husband do what he should to make things right between us.

When she finally pulls her eyes from the paper, I can see her beautiful face streaked with tears and a huge smile. "Idina..." she laughs and cries at the same time. "Are you serious?"

I nod, smiling bigger than before. "Dead serious." I take a large breath, preparing myself for what I've needed to say for too long.

"You are my everything, Kris. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you beside me to tell me that I'm crazy and I need to slow down, and all of the things I can't seem to see on my own. I know I haven't treated you the way you deserve, what with staying with Taye and having his baby... but I'm going to do better. Starting with this," I tap the papers on her lap. "I'm having him sign them first thing in the morning. And if it's alright with you, I want to move me and Walker in here with you. I don't want anymore secrets or hiding out where we can. I want us to be an US, and be happy. I want everything; a whole new life, with just the two of deciding where it goes."

Her tears seem to multiply at the same time starts to laugh and nod her head up and down, and I know she's doing this because she can't form the words at the moment. But I'm not finished. I reach underneath of her nightstand, where I hid a small box about six months ago.

I take another shaky breath, willing myself to go on. "I need you. I've always needed you, and you make me feel like me, instead of some fake person I put on for a crowd. You love my son just as much as I do despite where he came from. You take my breath away at the same time you give me my air so that I can stay alive, and I wouldn't still be here without you."

I open the box at the same time she notices it, and all the color drains from her face. Her tears stop. Her gaze is transfixed. I don't even think she's breathing. Now I have to say it.

"Will you marry me?"

Her hand flew to her mouth and she choked on the sobs racking her body. I can see the lines above her cheeks telling me that she's smiling and crying happy tears behind her hand. She looks from the ring to me, and back at the ring, her eyes opening more than they were before, then taking her hand away from her face. I smile nervously... she still hasn't actually answered yet.

She ignores the ring, going straight for me, planting a rare hard kiss on my lips before wrapping her arms around my neck and holding on to me for dear life. She's still crying her lovely happy-tears, and I hear a muffled "Yesh! Yeash uh coursh!" spoken into my neck.

"I didn't quite catch that one, baby..." I say, feeling tears well up in my own eyes again.

She sits back, laughing and crying at the same time and making my heart warm too many degrees to still be healthy. "I said 'YES'!" she giggles, then get serious, smiling at me like I am the only thing that there is to care about. "Of course I'll marry you. You're my whole world."

That was it for me. Tears started to fall down my face. I hate when I cry; I look like a big cherry tomato, but I don't let myself get out of control. I reach down and take the ring out of the box, and slide it on to her slender finger watching the diamond sparkle in the candlelight.

It fits.

We fit.

Together.

Before her, I didn't know who I was. Now, I'm exactly who I'm supposed to me, and where I'm supposed to be;

...with her.


End file.
